Who Are We Now?
by MsAnimanga
Summary: In the aftermath of the infamous shooting, Maura finds herself facing a great loss. Rizzles/Rizzisles, I promise!
1. Oh, Jane

**So, I've been holding on to this story and not posting it because I was waiting until I had more written up. I wanted to be done with The Detective, The Doctor, and The Badge before I posted this one, but DDB is giving me some trouble, and my editor is nowhere to be found. I decided that I would post the first chapter, because it's been sitting here for a while and it's about time. I also have a one-shot that a new beta is reading for me. I can't say when I will update this, but I will say that I know where it's going, and the plot will be thick-I think. Anyhow, here is Chapter 1 of Who Are We Now?**

Who Are We Now? Chapter 1 – Oh, Jane

Maura was a woman that went by the facts. She was logical and straight-forward. She knew things that were- as she had been told- often useless bits of information. She spewed off this information as she saw necessary. Most people found her rambling unnecessary and awkward, and she had been working on her interactions with other people. Maura was a particular person, prim and proper, a creature of habit.

One thing Maura did not do was assume. She never reacted quickly without carefully analyzing a situation. Thus, Maura did her best to not jump to conclusions about her recent predicament.

For some reason, Maura had finally come to a problem that she could not solve. Despite her analysis and extensive research on the subject, she could not come to a conclusion.

Well, she had come to a conclusion. But Maura did not like the conclusion she came to.

She was attracted to the infamous Detective, Jane Rizzoli.

It was not that Maura did not approve of homosexuality. She could go on and on, presenting a plethora of statistical data and extensive information regarding attraction to the same sex. She would never admit to such an attraction, though. The world she grew up in pushed her toward a certain path. Of course, everyone expected her to date the sons of other wealthy families, to produce a brilliant child, and to continue to pursue her career.

Maura had always accounted her failures with men to the flaws in her personality. She always seemed to say too much, ruining any chance she had with these men. Her candid diagnoses of her dates certainly did not help.

One of her dates had showed obvious signs of male pattern baldness, another one showed signs of a bacterial infection, and the most recent candidate had been dismissed due to his penchant for wearing mismatched socks. Maura had to admit that at times her analyses and dismissals of the men she dated were ridiculous.

Over the years, Maura had attempted to push the obvious out of the way. She was already seen as an odd human being, a "Google mouth" that was too intelligent for her own good. She didn't need to be further ostracized, and if her assumptions were correct, there would be an entire world of people that would look at her with disdain.

With no friends and little social interactions, it was easy for Maura to avoid the issue altogether.

Then Jane Rizzoli came into the picture.

Maura grew close to the woman, and despite the flaws she saw in Jane, she hadn't ruined their friendship. Jane didn't find her spewing of random facts condescending- if anything, it seemed as though she found it endearing. She understood that it was a part of Maura that could not be changed, and it made Maura who she was.

Maura had felt things when she was with Jane. At first she shrugged it off and ignored the obvious implications of her reaction to the brunette. The simple touches they shared sent a jolt through her, and the glances they shared often lingered longer than necessary.

On one night in particular, Maura was assured that she was correct in her conclusions. She was lying beside Jane, ignoring the alarms that were going off in her head due to their current positions-something that she had dared to imagine before.

"Are we having a sleepover or is this your way of telling me you're attracted to me?"

Maura gulped. Surely, Jane had meant it jokingly- but Maura's heart had skipped a beat as she thought back over the extensive insight she had given to the subject as of late.

_Maura, tell her…_ Maura dropped a mental block on the thought and laughed lightheartedly at Jane's comment.

They lay quietly, and Maura held onto Jane's comment. It bounced about in her head, Maura picking it apart slowly. Had Jane really said it in jest? Was that a hint of seriousness in Jane's voice? Did she detect a bit of hope?

Before Maura could further analyze the situation, a knock was heard at her front door.

That FBI agent had ruined a perfectly good opportunity- but Maura could not blame this on him. No, she had had many opportunities to analyze things and speak to Jane.

Now it was too late.

* * *

Maura had slipped into the hospital room to find it empty.

It was the day after the incident with Bobby Marino. Jane had shot herself in an attempt to save her brother, Frankie. The detective had been brought into the hospital, unconscious.

Marino had been captured, cursing Jane and bleeding profusely.

Somehow, he had lived. Somehow, he was alive and waiting in a cell to be tried. Somehow, the police were considering making some sort of deal with him. It seemed that he was a part of a bigger drug ring, and could provide information on a drug boss that had been evading prosecution for years.

The deal was looking good for Marino, until he had ordered Jane's head on a silver platter. For the first time, Maura Isles was grateful for Charles Hoyt.

Hoyt had ears all over the prison, as well as on the outside. His people had somehow caught wind of the hit set out on Jane. The serial killer managed to warn the department of the impending doom that had been set up for the detective, not without having one of his men injure Marino on the prison grounds for threatening his precious Jane.

Of course, Marino's deal was pulled. His trial was set to occur, with Jane as a star witness. Security was set up to protect Jane Rizzoli from the drug dealer's henchmen, the hit still live and the pay increased since Marino's slip-up.

It had all occurred in only two days, and Maura was exhausted, filled with worry for the woman that she had grown so close to. Jane was the person that seemed to understand her.

The doctors and protective detail had told Maura that Jane would be fine. The surgeons told Maura that Jane would need to go undergo a final surgery- from the medical reports that the team had run by Maura, and from witnessing the shooting, she knew that the detective had caused serious damage with that gunshot.

The surgery had gone well, they told her. Everything was going according to plan.

Until some unforeseen complication had occurred. A sudden decrease in Jane's heart rate left the surgeons baffled, and their attempts to regulate it and revive her were useless.

Somehow, Jane had slipped away. Somehow, Jane Rizzoli's heart had stopped beating.

* * *

Maura dropped the picture frame she had in her hand. The glass shattered, distorting the face of the brunette detective pictured.

The M.E. slid to the floor, shaking the frame to release the glass. She clutched the remaining wooden frame to her chest, held Jane to her for the last time.

"Oh, Jane…oh, Jane…."

The tears did not stop. Maura knew that they would never stop.

She hadn't been able to stifle them since Jane's surgeon had found her in the empty hospital room. As soon as Maura looked into those apologetic eyes, she had collapsed into a heap on the floor. The voices that suddenly surrounded her were dull and she only heard screams.

It was a clear, deep, wretched sound, full of anguish, nearly animalistic in nature.

It was later that they explained to her, with hushed tones and sad eyes, that the screams belonged to her.

Now, clutching a picture of the woman she had lost, Maura's screams were replaced by a desperately repeated mantra.

"Oh, Jane…oh, Jane…"

* * *

Maura woke to the sound of an alarm clock in her bedroom.

Slightly disoriented, she took a moment to observe the scene around her. She saw the glass on the hardwood floor and found that she was still clutching Jane's picture.

She had fallen asleep on the sofa.

Her dress would be wrinkled…

Jane would have laughed at her for thinking of something so trivial at a time like this.

Maura went to her bedroom to change into the outfit that she had laid out the night before.

She slipped into the simple pair of Boston PD sweat pants and comfortable shirt- a softball shirt that had belonged to Jane.

Everything else was packed in boxes, ready to be loaded onto the truck that waited outside.

Maura folded the black dress that she had worn to Jane's funeral. She didn't mind the wrinkles- she was sure that she would never want to wear it again.

She did not want to remember this part of Jane. She only wanted the pictures that she had, this softball shirt, and the few other items that Angela Rizzoli had given her to remember Jane by.

The Rizzolis all understood why Maura had to leave Boston. They seemed to know that there was some deep connection between the two women. It was Angela Rizzoli who had rushed to Jane's hospital room and soothed the amber-haired woman, calming her and silencing her screams.

Maura gave her bedroom one final look and walked out, dress and picture frame in her hands.

**That's chapter one! I hope you enjoyed it- and please don't be upset, there will be more to come, and it won't all be insanely sad. Thank you to mcentire_k for editing for me, she edited this a while ago. Please leave me a review, they keep me breathing.**

**xo,**

**msanimanga**


	2. She's Gone

**I actually haven't had this chapter edited at all, so I apologize for any typos. Sorry if this chapter moves a bit quickly, it was written in spurts as my muse spoke to me. Please enjoy Chapter 2 of Who Are We Now?**

Who Are We Now? Chapter 2 - She's Gone.

Angela Rizzoli set her coffee mug on the dining room table and stared at the letter beside it. Maura had left the letter and asked her not to open it until she was gone. It was now that Angela tore into the envelope in the Doctor's clean script. As she mulled over the words inscribed across the pages, she considered Maura's demeanor during their last encounter.

It had only been two days since the M.E. had hugged her, weeping and explaining that she had to leave town. The woman clinging to her was not the Maura she knew. She was the remnants of the woman Maura had once been. Her clothing was crisp and well managed as usual, but her face had lost its glow, her smile was a thing of the past, and dark circles had taken up residence under her eyes.

Angela did not question the younger woman, nor did she press her for details of her destination. She merely held her, soothing her as though she were her own daughter.

"It'll be okay, Maura. We'll all be okay…"

Angela wasn't sure that either of them would ever be the same. Janie was her daughter, her only daughter. She fussed over Frankie often, but that didn't mean that Janie wasn't her baby, too.

For once in her life, Angela Rizzoli wished that she hadn't been right. She wished that she had never suggested that Jane would be hurt while on the job. It was a reality, of course, and one that had proven true. Now, however, she wished that she hadn't pressed Jane with the dangers of her job so much. Angela wished that she had told her daughter just how proud she was of her accomplishments.

She wished that she had told her daughter what she saw between her and Maura.

The woman made Jane light up whenever she entered a room. She had affected Janie in a way that Angela had never seen.

She was afraid that Jane would never know love. Seeing her with Maura, however, put her at ease for some time. She saw the love hidden just underneath the light laughter and playful banter.

Angela never asked about the relationship between the two women. At first she had hoped that it was merely something that would pass- Jane had never been one to acknowledge any interest in women. Angela had seen it, though, the way that Jane had glanced at Maura, reacted to her. After much deliberation [and research into same-sex couples and child-bearing], she had come to accept the relationship that might have flourished between the two women.

It was after Jane's accident that she fully understood the intensity of the connection between the young women. She had seen Maura's strong dedication to her daughter, waiting by her side and speaking to her in hushed tones, later explaining to Angela that research suggested that coma patients could hear such things.

Maura's cries after Jane's death had broken Angela's heart. It was then that she saw Maura's lost gaze, the loss of hope in her eyes. Angela had seen love in the months of observation before her daughter was torn away from her.

She only hoped that Jane and Maura had seen it, too.

* * *

"What do you mean she's not there?" Mary spoke harshly into her cell phone, sitting up in her desk chair.

"She's not here, Mary. I just stepped out for five minutes, she was in the shower…" The agent on the phone attempted to explain himself, only to be cut off abruptly.

"Damnit! I ask you to take care of her for an hour- an hour! I swear, I… Stay right there. Are her things still there?" Mary grabbed her jacket, running toward her vehicle and tearing out of the parking lot.

The blonde federal agent barged into the motel room in a fury, glancing around the room and spotting the other agent in the room.

"You have got to be kidding me. How did this even happen? She has a sling on her arm. A sling! And she's still limping, Marshall. How did she manage to get away from you?" Mary barked, walking back out of the room and into the car with Marshall close behind.

"I don't know! Like I said, she was in the shower. I didn't want to be in there when she got out, and I was hungry, I went to…"

Mary abruptly turned, heading toward her car with a confused Marshall trailing behind her.

The unmarked federal vehicle tore out of the hotel parking lot, heading toward Jane Rizzoli's childhood home.

* * *

A sudden knock at the door startled Angela, pulling her from her thoughts. She wiped at her tears as she went to answer the door, greeting a woman that reminded her of a blond version of Jane.

"Hello…can I help you?" Angela was sure that Jane was the only woman in the homicide division of the BPD, and she had never heard Jane mention many other friends beside Maura, so she was unsure of whom this woman could be. They had certainly had many visitors since Jane's accident, so she gestured the woman in nonetheless.

"Mrs. Rizzoli, this might be an odd question. I understand that you've been through a lot lately…" Mary glanced around the room carefully, looking for any signs of a recent visit from a certain detective.

"So you did know Janie…?" Angela stared questioningly at the woman before her.

"Mrs. Rizzoli…I did know her. I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for your loss." Mary smiled apologetically, standing awkwardly just inside the doorway. She saw no signs suggesting that the woman she was looking for had been in the living room recently, and she felt no need to worsen this woman's grieving process.

"Jane was a brave woman. She never did know when to put herself before the job, or before others." Mary nodded, glancing around the room one last time before moving toward the door.

"I'm sorry that she had to go the way that she did. She always was stubborn…she was a hero though, ma'am."

Angela smiled at the kind woman and wrapped her in a hug before she could escape the doorway.

"Thank you, you're very kind…I didn't catch your name?" Angela released her grip on the woman, looking at her expectantly.

"Ah, it's Mary. Mary Shannon. Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Rizzoli. I'm sorry that we couldn't meet on better circumstances."

Marshall cleared his throat, reminding Mary that they were here for a reason.

"Ah, right…we'd better get going, Mrs. Rizzoli. We have a case in the neighborhood, and we have a meeting to get to." Mary moved toward the door again, walking backwards through the doorframe.

"Thanks for stoppin' by, Mary.' Angela reached for the doorknob before stopping herself to ask another question of the woman.

"Tell me, Mary…how did you know Janie?"

The question was simple enough, and Mary was quick to formulate an answer.

"Uhm, we were in the academy together. I started there, and-"

The back door suddenly slammed open in the middle of Mary's elaborate tale, and shouting wafted in from the kitchen.

"Where is she, Ma? Where is she? She's not there! Her house, it's empty! Where did she…?"

The detective powered into the livingroom, which suddenly grew quiet. Three sets of eyes were upon her at once, and Mary saw something in the woman's eyes that she had not seen before.

Panic. Fear. Sorrow.

The detective froze and looked at her mother expectantly, setting her jaw and ignoing the pain shooting through her body and the federal agents that stood in the doorway.

"Honey, what…how?" Angela Rizzoli's face was pained. Her hands began to tremble, and she looked as though she would faint.

"Jane is that…is that you, Janie?" Tears burst from the woman's eyes, and she rushed to the frizzy-haired detective, taking her in arms and crushing her to confirm her existence.

"Ma, I'm sorry, I-"

The detective was cut short as her mother's demeanor changed in an instant. Her arms flailed madly and she swatted at her daughter angrily.

"How could you do this to us, Jane? Your father and I, and your brother! And Maura! For God's sake, Jane Rizzoli, how could you do this to that poor woman?"

At this point, Mary and Marshall had shut the front door, moving toward the kitchen to give the women privacy, but keeping an ear out should Jane decide to leave once again.

"Ma…" Jane's voice was strained, and she held her mother's arms steady to look into her eyes.

"I'm sorry…I had to. There was no other way. It's not like I wanted to do this. And do you think I really wanted to leave you all like that? You think I had a choice?" Jane's furrowed brow showed anger, but the tears along her eyelids told her mother how much of a choice she had in the matter.

"Why do you think I came back, Ma? I couldn't leave things like this. And I'm not a coward. I didn't hide when Hoyt was after me, and I sure as hell don't plan on doing it now. I shot myself in the gut, Ma, do you really think I'm one to _avoid _a dangerous situation?" Jane smiled, albeit painfully, and let her mother's arms fall to her sides.

"She's gone, Janie." Angela stood stock still, staring into her daughter's eyes, answering the question that Jane had come in bellowing.

"She's gone."

**Welp, there's Chapter 2! Sorry for leaving you at a bit of a rough spot. This story doesn't 'want to be a very happy one at the moment. Don't worry, though, it won't be tragic forever. I hope to have Chapter 3 done soon, but I can't be sure when I can have it finished. Please leave me reviews, they keep me breathing and writing.**

**xo,**

**msanimanga**


	3. Mary and Marshall and Ma

**It has been quite a while since I last updated this story. I apologize, but I'm picking it up again and hoping to finish this as I planned. On a side note, if you would like to see a Rizzoli and Isles convention, Rizzoli_Con is a twitter account campaigning for one. Follow them for instructions on how we can make it happen. **

**Now, onward to the chapter...**

Who Are We Now? Chapter 3 - Mary and Marshall and Ma

_"She's gone."_

...

"What do you mean, she's gone? Where the hell could she be?" Jane clenched her jaw, wincing at the pain in her side. She was in no condition to be running around and busting through doors in a fury.

"She left, she took everything that she could fit in a moving truck and she left. She said...she just couldn't take it, Janie. You can't blame her. If any of us had the opportunity to run after losing you, we would have taken it, too." Angela's tears were back in full force, and she ran her hands along her daughter's face, testing again for transparency, assuring herself that her daughter was real.

"She couldn't take what? Shit, Ma, I-" Jane grunted, hit with another wave of pain, she sat on the couch and lifted her shirt to assess the damage.

"Janie, are you bleeding?" Angela rushed to the kitchen and retrieved a towel, bringing it to her daughter hurriedly. The panicked look on her face caught the attention of the agents standing awkwardly against the counters, prompting them to follow the older Rizzoli into the living room.

"I think the stitches might have…agh!" Jane fought the urge to cry and pressed the towel lightly against her wound, hoping to stop the flow of blood.

"Ma, please, this isn't important, I can handle a little blood. I just… I need to know where she is. I need to find her." Jane pleaded, pushing through the pain, her voice cracking with the effort.

"Janie, I don't know. She didn't say where she was going. She didn't tell anyone. She wanted to forget…she was hurting so much, baby. She shook whenever someone mentioned your name. She was fading away. I don't know how that woman made it this far…I was afraid she might…"

"No. Don't even say it. Don't even suggest it." Jane's voice took on a dangerous edge, the anger dissipating as she imagined Maura's suffering. She had seen the pain on the ME's face as she aimed the gun at herself. Before she blacked out, she had heard Maura's cries. It pained her to think that she had done something like that to someone that she had never wanted to hurt.

"Maura's strong, she's so….she's resilient, Ma. She would never…why would she leave? How could she leave?" The tears in Jane's eyes finally broke from her eyes, running down her hollowed cheeks in a steady stream.

"Jane." Her name was spoken with seriousness, the no nonsense tone that Mary used with those she was meant to protect. Jane would have almost believed it if she hadn't heard the underlying tone of concern.

"We need to go, you're still in danger, and we should have your stitches checked out again." The agent's face was stern, but her eyes softened as the detective held her head in her hands.

"Isn't there any way we can find her? Can't we send someone out there, Mary? You must know somebody…" Jane wracked her brain for answers, for possible connections, making a mental list of the people she could contact to track down the ME. Her eyes settled on the ground as she thought of the last man that she would go to.

"If she doesn't want to be found, I doubt that we can find her, Jane. We investigated…she has the means to disappear completely, not to mention the connections to some shady…"

"She wouldn't do that. She wouldn't pull those strings. She wouldn't even do it when she had to protect her own life, she would never cross that legal line!" Jane glared at the federal agent, daring her to go on with her accusation.

"You don't know her. She wouldn't…you don't know her." Jane's voice broke and she turned away, unwilling to show Mary the cracks in her fierce mask. She wouldn't allow them to see her weaknesses.

"People will do crazy things when they're in pain." Mary's voice was gentle, no longer harsh and cold. Jane was falling apart, and it wouldn't do to hurt her any further.

"She wouldn't…look, the longer we sit here and argue, the longer it'll take us to find her. I don't have time for this, I'll get her myself if I have to." Jane jumped from the couch- a stupid decision on her part, considering the stitches in her side.

"And the longer you run around with that hole in your side, the more prone you will be to infection!" Mary attempted to reason with the stubborn detective.

"Fine, if I promise to have myself stitched up again, can we go look for her? She's in danger, too. They know that she's out there." Jane began to pace, shaking her head at the prospect of Maura being threatened by the drug dealer's henchmen.

"Jane, they don't know that you're still alive. They won't go after her unless you go out there. If they find out that you're looking for her, they'll take her as bait." Marshall spoke up, catching the attention of the women in the room.

"He's right, Janie. Let them take you to a hospital, they can look for Maura without her getting hurt." Angela placed a hand on her daughter's shoulder to still her movement and giving her a pointed look.

"Okay. I'll go to the hospital. But if they don't find her in a day, I'm doing it myself." Jane turned to the agents, gesturing toward the door with a jerk of her head.

"Let's get this over with. I need to find Maura before it's too late." Jane headed toward the door, Mary and Marshall following after thanking the elder Rizzoli.

"Ma?" Jane turned before walking through the door, watching as the tears formed in her mother's eyes once again.

"I'm sorry about all this. I really didn't mean for it to happen this way. I didn't shoot myself in the gut for nothing, I'll be back. I'll fix this." At her mother's nod, Jane hurried through the doorway and toward the waiting WitSec agents.

* * *

"Where do you want this, ma'am?" The mover pushed the final piece of furniture into the living room, swiping the sweat from his brow.

"If you could place it near the fireplace…" Maura nodded when everything was placed, handed the movers generous tips and thanked them for their help before walking them out.

The house felt empty- it was foreign to her, free of any memories that may jolt her or hurt her.

It was a drastic decision, moving across the country- not to mention illogical. No distance from Boston would free her from the memories and pain within her. There would be no escape for her, only denial.

Maura held back the tears once again and made her way to her new bedroom, where Jane's shirt waited on her bed. She would sleep in it again, hoping that the scent would not fade if she continued to wear it like this.

The shirt and the few photographs in her bureau were the only physical items she had left of the detective.

Maura Isles would start over, building upon whatever pieces she had left.


End file.
